


Windows on a Train

by angelffxmaniac



Series: Faberry Week 2013 - The Sequel [1]
Category: Faberry - Fandom, Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelffxmaniac/pseuds/angelffxmaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel finally uses her Metro North Pass, after hearing on the news about a gunman spotted on Yale campus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Windows on a Train

**Author's Note:**

> This is partly for Faberry Week, and partly for Skywarrior108, who gave me the prompt a few days ago. I also need to thank her, because lol, how do you New York, and also, thanks to llaurorall for looking over this for me. :) Hope you enjoy!

It feels like one single moment, suspended in time, stretching on forever.

You can still hear the reporter’s voice coming from the TV. You can still see Kurt, sitting at the table, eyes wide in surprise, looking back at you, but you can’t register much else. There’s two words swimming around in your mind, and they are the only ones that matter.

There’s a gunman at Yale.

There’s a gunman at Yale, and the police haven’t found him yet, and the students…

Your hands cover your mouth in horror, and you can feel, more than see, Kurt coming to hold you.

Her name leaves your lips coupled with a gasp, just as the tears start welling up in your eyes.

_“Quinn.”_

\--

Your decision is instantaneous, and you stubbornly ignore Kurt’s suggestion to calm down and just wait.

\--

You arrive at Grand Central station just in time for you to board the next train to New Haven.

You look at the time table.

The trip lasts a little less than two hours.

\--

There’s a small voice in the back of your mind, that keeps asking you _why now_ , that keeps telling you that _it’s too late_ , that keeps reminding you that _you failed._

You shake your head and look outside the window, your eyes finding nothing but black, when the train starts rolling away from the station.

It can’t be right.

It can’t.

\--

But what if _it is_?

\--

The old woman across from you asks if you’re cold, and you stare at her in confusion before you realize that you’re actually shaking. You can’t tell if it’s you, or the rhythm of the train on the rails, so you just smile politely back at her and say you’re fine.

She shoots a sympathetic nod at you, and waits for just one second, before introducing herself.

You learn that her name’s Mary. She’s on her way back to Connecticut after visiting her daughter. She then nods to the man beside her – he seems to be asleep – and grins. “That’s my husband,” she says. “He always falls asleep on the train.”

She doesn’t seem to mind, and the affection with which she’s looking at him makes you smile.

“How about you, honey? Travelling alone?”

Your smile falters, and you look everywhere but at the woman. “Yeah, I – I’m visiting a friend in New Haven.”

The old woman – Mary – smiles knowingly. “Friendships are small blessings,” she says kind heartedly, and then looks at the man fondly. “And sometimes, they can give you even more than just a friend.”

You don’t know what to say to that – you never saw Finn as a person who could be your friend and you don't even know Brody all that well.

In any case, it doesn't matter. The only person that matters, right now, is Quinn.

\--

You close your eyes for a second – just one second - and you immediately see her, backstage in some big theatre, holding your hand, and looking at you with so much affection that you can feel it deep within your soul.

“You’re gonna be incredible,” she reassures you, and leans down to kiss you. It's only a peck, but you still bask in it, and when you part, you can't help but lick your lips. She tastes like wine.

“Promise me you’ll be here when the show’s over?”

She laughs at you – that bubbly laugh that you know she reserves for her intimate moments with you and your friends – and hugs you leisurely.

“I’ll always be here, Rach.”

It’s enough. Her promise is enough. You turn around in her arms, after one more kiss, and start to walk away, but stop, right before you enter the stage.

“I love you, Quinn,” you say and then walk out, before you even have a chance to hear her reply.

\--

You open your eyes with a gasp.

Mary asks you if you’re ok, and you wait a second before responding.

“I’m – yeah, I’m good.”

You hope she can’t tell you’re lying. You’re an actress, after all.

\--

When the train arrives at the station, you are the first one to get out. You immediately ask for directions to get to Yale, and a kind man points towards the Yale Shuttle.

“You’ll be there before you know it.”

You smile and check your phone. The police still haven’t found the gunman, and the campus is on lockdown.

\--

When you reach the Yale campus there’s a moment of confusion. There’s a perimeter set up, and there’s police everywhere, but it looks like they are getting ready to move out. When you ask one of the policemen what is going on, you are informed that the gunman threat was a hoax after all.

It takes a moment for the news to register, but when it does, you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

You hug the policeman and run off towards Quinn’s building.

\--

When you reach her dorm room - you know of the building and the number from the couple of emails you exchanged at the beginning of the semester – you need a moment before you knock.

You’re worried that maybe everything is too much too fast, and your brain is on overdrive, and you’re just glad that you the whole gunman thing wasn’t serious, but there’s also the image from the train and your heart is fluttering, and your stomach is nervous, and –

“Ok, I need to call my mom, be back in a b- Rachel?!”

The initial shock of having the door open without you knocking, and Quinn standing there, fades away quickly and your only reaction is to hug her, as tight as you can.

“Not that I am complaining but – what are you doing here?”

There are tears falling on your cheeks, but you ignore them, because you’re hugging Quinn, and it’s already been a long day and it’s been _so long_ and you’re just glad she’s ok.

“The news,” you say between sobs, “they said about a gunman and I just – I _had_ to come Quinn.”

You feel her arms tighten around you – the movement so familiar - before she suggests you get inside and to her room.

Accepting means you have to let go, though, and you’re not quite ready for that.

\--

Half an hour later, you’re both sitting on her bed, side by side, her hands in yours, making lazy circles on the back of her palms with your fingers.

“So I guess, that Metro North Pass finally came in handy, huh?”

You know she wants to make the situation lighter, but there’s still bitterness coming through i, and suddenly you’re angry.

“God, I am such an idiot!”

You get up from the bed and start walking up and down, and Quinn’s just staring at you.

“Rachel, what are you talking about? You’re not an idiot.”

You turn to look at her – hazel eyes looking up at you with affection – and you decide there’s no other way to do this.

You kneel in front of her, and take her hands in yours.

“"No, no, listen to me. I -- I heard the news and I got _dso_  scared Quinn. Th-there was a moment when I really imagined my life without you - *really* without you, not you being here and me in Yale - and the only time I've felt more terrified was during your accident. And I don't - I couldn't take it Quinn. I know I've been an idiot for not --- for losing touch but i won't let it happen again because - i can't take it, Quinn, I can't pretend that almost losing you doesn't hurt and I can't ignore it anymore and I just - promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me you'll never leave."

There's a desperation in your voice and your lips are getting closer to Quinn's and you’ve stopped thinking.

"Rach, I ..."

You drown Quinn's words before they ever leave her lips. The kiss isn't passionate, it isn't soft, it isn't romantic. It's asking for a chance and it's almost demanding.

"Please," you plead as soon as you part, and Quinn's arms wrap around you tighter.

"I promise. I've always been here, and I always will."


End file.
